


Wait the Painted Year

by Chimchimchanga



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, TaeDo, Yongyoung, background yuwin, because thats all i write just dotae fluff, dotae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chimchimchanga/pseuds/Chimchimchanga
Summary: a year of dotae
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. A New Lover's Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys : D another dotae fic as always lol , hope you enjoy

It’s snowing, cold endless sparkles that bite as it falls to the ground, fighting the air in puffs before nestling into the freshly arrived snow. Cold, gusty wind scratching and pawing the face with freshly sharpened claws which ripped at clothes, tearing the skin off bones snapped window shutters and trash can lids in clangs that rang as the tune of winter. Now, imagine, this, a day for two lovers.

But of course, those lovers were not braving the weathering storm. For them, the blizzard outside was nothing but a mildly violent painting framed by dusty curtains, a thing to fancy and forget just as simply, shaking the thought as mindlessly as they stomped the snow from their boots.

The lovers would rather occupy themselves with their own, a pretty little party of friends and wine.

Of course, a gathering of friends at such a New Year’s Eve is to be expected, and even perhaps a kiss at midnight.

And though Doyoung was always one to defy expectations, just once he gave in to fate's presumptions and kissed the lovely face none could forget, much less resist. He stole Taeyong’s midnight kiss under the full stars, stole the taste of cheap box wine on his tongue, stole the giggling and untold jokes that should have been whispered into ears over the pulsing of Jaehyun’s playlist of dated party songs. But with a new pair of lips to enjoy those giggles and jokes stayed bubbling inside to be given out another time, or perhaps forgotten and never heard at all.

Always Doyoung had dreamt of a kiss like this. Nothing more than this simple embrace, just a soft touch of the lips with a man with of beauty like Taeyong’s. And had his dream he did, in a living room of falling apart IKEA, surrounded by company too dazed to realize the clock had chimed twelve and their cans of soda had long since gone flat, all as the winds raged a door away.


	2. Valentine Lull

Doyoung's question refused to be asked.

"Awful, awful man," Taeyong muttered to himself, squinting through the yellow of the early sun’s half-opened eye to his screen's chilly blue glow. "First my heart, and now he's stealing all of my time." Truly, unforgivable.

Taeyong sighed, hugging his phone to his chest as he fell back into bed, listening to the drone of waking life humming alive to Monday through the apartment building. The dog downstairs was scrambling to its food bowl, the kid next door was yelling to his mother, and Yuta's daily coffee was brewing away in the machine’s spirited pitter-patter, the aroma already soaking through the hallway.

He entered the kitchen just as Yuta was finishing what appeared to be his fourth cup, empty mugs arranged around him like the mushrooms of a fairy circle. 

"Taeyong!" Yuta exclaimed, banging his knee into the kitchen counter as he stood up. "Morning! Still nothing?" 

Taeyong shook his head. 

"Coward," Yuta snorted. "Well, can't you man up and ask him?" 

Laughing at the immediate horror and fear that shadowed Taeyong's face, he handed a mug to him in apology for suggesting such an unreasonable tactic, how dare he. 

"Laugh all you want, Yuta." He grumbled. "At least I'm dating someone, not pining over a man you've never talked to!"

"I'll talk to him eventually!" Yuta pouted defensively. "Can't you see I'm waiting for the perfect moment?"

"Like that's ever gonna come." Taeyong downed his coffee and threw on his coat to leave for work. He bid his friend goodbye, stepping out into the briskly cool February morning, the minty florals of spring staining through old ice. 

And through his entire workday, his phone remained silent, no matter how many times he snuck a peek, heartbeat hammering in his throat, hoping, praying, anything, anything, anything, for those little five words that played in his head like a record spinning for eternity. 

_It'll come,_ he whispered to himself, _it_ _'ll come any second now._

_It'll come after_ _Doyoung's finished working.  
_

_It’ll come when we meet on Saturday._

_It'll come at the perfect moment._

But that day, and the day after that, and the day after that, each one ticked away like Taeyong ticked away the dates on his calendar, counting down their passing, gifting each with their own little crack in his hope. 

Their scheduled Saturday date also came and went.

The whole world had turned bubblegum pink and cherry red with plastic hearts and chubby Cupid motifs, all the usual trappings of Valentine propaganda. The whole world, except Doyoung, apparently, who appeared to believe it was still January and not the month of desperately scrambling boyfriends. 

The evening was fine as any other with Doyoung was, but the could-have weighed on the night air, so that even the light crispness of winter night felt cloying. 

**-♡-**

"So?" Yuta probed when Taeyong returned home, covered in the worn leather of Doyoung's jacket, "Did he ask?"

"Guess." He pouted. 

"Poor baby," Yuta simpered, stretching out to yawn. "Well, seems that's that. Better luck next year!"

"Poor Sicheng," Taeyong said, glaring. 

Yuta grumbled something and quieted, retiring to his room for the night. Taeyong checked the time on his phone, a little dejected to see the last few minutes of the 13th ticking away, the screen empty of messages.

Five minutes till midnight.

He sighed and shut his phone off to turn his mind away from Doyoung and to bedtime routine instead. 

Four minutes till midnight.

He'd lay in bed and remember. A fling was a fling, a splash of love still lives through rippling sentiments just as the sweet of a sugar cube dances on the tongue long after its spirited touch is gone from the lips.

Three minutes till midnight.

A knock! A dash to the door! A breath held in the heart!

Two minutes till midnight.

His eyes met Doyoung's wide eyes and flushed cheeks the same pale rosy hues as the flowers of the same name in his hands. 

"T-Taeyong... sorry I'm so late... I couldn't work up the nerve..." He held out his bouquet in a shivering sort of defense. "Will you be my Valentine?" 

One minute till midnight.

It did indeed come at the perfect moment. 

**Author's Note:**

> cross your fingers that I actually finish this story >.< lol


End file.
